The Words I Did Not Write

Nov 24 2014

When last you weigh my heart against my quill,

before you give my salt back to the sea,

upon the silent organ, bleeding, still,

you’ll find two holes like eyes, and you will see.

You’ll see the pair of rhymes I did not write.

The first was not the epic of a boy

who sacrificed his pride and yielded spite

that had no right, though treated like a toy.

The second one was not a lover’s verse,

writ’ starry-eyed and virgin, to implore

his patron God and psychiatric nurse

to say that she’d accept his metaphor.

The mark of Cain will sooner cede to grace!

The words I did not write, I can’t erase.


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